Panel discussion
topics, section 4:
MR. HOCKENBERRY:
All right, I want to open it up for questions, so certainly I hope through
this discussion that we've been able to show both the variety of experience,
whether a disability manifests itself physically, mentally, or psychologically,
or perceptually, as to how that perhaps is related or unrelated to the
modus for being a photographer or for being an artist. I'll give everyone
on the panel a chance to give some parting remarks, but before we do
that, let's get questions from the audience. And I'll repeat the question
if people don't...
FEMALE
(MS. STUART?): ...wonder if you'd say a little more about the
link between music and photography. You said they had similarities,
and I'm really keen to know how you see those.
MR. LEE:
I've heard several other photographers mention a link between music
and photography. Ansel Adams was a piano player; Ralph Gibson is a jazz
musician. And I think the link is an artistic link and that it is a
form of self-expression. The composition in music where you have a certain
parameter that you work in is kind of similar in photography where you
have... you know, I'm working in a black and white medium. The image
is either square or rectangular, and those are the parameters of it.
In music, you've got...you're either in a certain key, you're playing
on a certain instrument so you have these parameters, and how are you
going to express yourself within these boundaries. And I think that's
the major link between music and photography.
MR. H:
Other questions? Right here.
QUESTION:
(UNINTELLIGIBLE) speak to how you had your early (UNINTELLIGIBLE) experience
(UNINTELLIGIBLE) or any teachers that may (UNINTELLIGIBLE) that created
this (UNINTELLIGIBLE) that helped you understand the role of art (UNINTELLIGIBLE)
that (UNINTELLIGIBLE).
MR. H:
Suzanne, I hear you. I see you nodding your head.
MS.
LEVINE: I was remembering Mrs. Habife (phonetic), I think it was
her name. I probably dyslexed it, but.... I've always enjoyed the camera
itself growing up, and I used to take it apart and try to put it back
together. And...but when I went into high school, I took a photography
class and there was an instructor there who didn't quite get what I
was trying to do because I like things really intensely high contrast.
But she encouraged me nonetheless and she let me argue my point of view
of what I liked. And that felt really good. I felt like it gave me a
sense of "self" in a certain kind of way in knowing what I wanted, what
I liked, and if she didn't like it okay. But then her forcing me to
teach me the basics, even if I didn't want to learn them. Also in 7th
grade there was a teacher who brought in...he let us make cartoons where
I cut out actual characters and placed it on the board and did one frame
at a time to do animation. And that...
MR. H:
Flip books?
MS. LEVINE:
No, real animation with camera and one still at a time. And I did something
like a Peanut going to a zoo and running into an elephant and getting
scared and running away (laughter).
MR. H:
I've seen that film (laughter). Extraordinarily powerful.
MS. LEVINE:
Planter's Peanuts, no (laughter). I mean that was...that was actually
what I did, and they were really impactful. And it got reinforced at
the home where we had a home movie camera and I was able to use by older
sister's camera as well. And just having those moments...they were brief,
but they were so impactful. I can play it back in my head, these different
moments, without any seemingly hesitation. So it always has given me
a foundation to come back to. Where are...oh, there you are.
MR. H: Without those moments [of support], do you think you would be an artist or would have made it there anyway?
MS. LEVINE:
You know, I really don't think so because I even had...I've had a very
hard time embracing being an artist. And I've always kind of felt like
I should go the more academic route which is what I noticed I'm saying.
So I still struggle with that, with it's okay to be 100 percent artist.
And I can say in so many years when I'm done with this project I'll
go more into that, and wanting to just go back to plain back and white
and do back to the basics again. But that's always something that's...it's
always a struggle because I don't feel like society really supports
that. Or if you put something out there and they look at it and they
say, okay, so what's the big deal, and they say okay. So, you know....
MR. H:
So it sounds like those moments of support are rare. And I think I can
certainly attest to that since I felt like I needed someone's permission
to be an artist, or to act like an artist. Although there were always
people in my high school who claimed they were poets already, and I
wondered where they actually got their certificate that said they were
a poet. But that said something about my own training. Angelo, how did
your early childhood education have an effect on your notion of being
an artist and seeking personal expression?
MR. SCIULLI:
My background was probably different than most. I have all of my degrees
in science. I never wanted to be an artist, per se. It was a path I
managed to get on by accident. Until 1995, I did not use the word artist
to describe myself. It was a passing habit, interest (photography) and
I was only interested in learning the mechanics of photography.
MR. H:
When you decided to embrace artistic expression, as you say late and
after having spent a lot of time as a scientist, a successful scientist,
were there teachers who I presume forced you kicking and screaming to
do art in those early days that came back to you?
MR. SCIULLI:
Yes. There was a Christian Brother that taught art in high school. I
never thought that anything I did was of value as art. I also never
appreciated the concept of a good artist and a bad artist both of which
could manage bad art Ð and good art. There are a lot of artists (at
that time) who were better. I was arguing with him one day about the
merits of my work. I was not pleased with my efforts and he was trying
to make a point. He said that "If I didn't agree that it was worth
showing to people that perhaps I was being too hard on myself as an
art critic". Later in life I remembered the lesson and realized that
I could compete with everybody without disability and stopped being
my own worst critic. I really appreciated the lesson he taught as it
came back to me later in life.
MR. H:
And certainly the good art/bad art debate rages even today. And is mostly
irrelevant to the question of whether artistic expression is worth doing
or not. Traci, any teacher stories? I love teacher stories.
MS. PARKS:
I don't, because I know that I liked art class because even sitting
in the front row I couldn't see the blackboards. So every other subject
was very, very difficult. I was an ideal student because I had to read
the assignment the night before like I was supposed to, otherwise I
had no idea what we were talking about. I liked art class, but I don't
ever remember having...thinking that I was good at it and having any
desire to grow up to be an artist.
MR. H:
My only experience in this, and I'll be very brief, was the Christmas
card competition that my dad, who was a spectacular visual artist, an
industrial designer, conducted between myself and then 2 brothers. We
subsequently had 2 more siblings, total of 5. My 2 brothers were younger
than me, and so of course when it became clear that we were going to
do the family Christmas card that my dad was going to get it printed
in 3-color processing, and that it was the responsibility of myself,
Peter, and David to come up with an image that was going to go on the
card, and that there would be a front image and a back image. And so
by my count, that was one image short of the number of people in my
people: David, Peter, and myself. So clearly the competition was on.
But as the oldest, I assumed absolutely that I was going to win. And
I set out to draw the perfect Christmas card image. And of course what
I did was draw this horribly, over-elaborate kind of literal story of
somebody coming to the door, and maybe there were Santas, I don't know
what it was. But in each case my father said no, no, no, no. Meanwhile,
my brothers made these spectacularly, spontaneous little symbolic images
that were perfect for Christmas cards, and I would look at those and
say no, no, no, but look my Santa is better. And my father would say,
no, not quite, John, let's have you do the typography. And so with my
penmanship at that time I was assigned the task of saying Merry Christmas
from the Hockenberry Family. And to this day, the notion of typographer
and the idea that I didn't win that contest is deeply, deeply scarring
(laughter). But I can say that there is certainly a tendency in elementary
school to determine whether people can actually do art or not. And often
those decisions come with very powerful consequences for individuals.
I certainly remember all my art teachers. Other questions? Right here.
QUESTION:
(INAUDIBLE).
MR. H:
Tom, we'll give you that one first.
MR.
LEE: I do a little bit of street photography. And a lot of times
I'll shoot from the waist; instead of bringing the camera up to eye
level, I'll prefocus and snap it from my lap. And sometimes that works
and sometimes it doesn't. And, you know, I may kind of see somebody
and look over here to focus on something and then you know, quickly
pan back and snap them. So it...it just kind of matters how you work.
And if you're...if I try not to draw a lot of attention to myself and
sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't.
MR. H:
Do you find that physically your physical limitations limit the kinds
of compositions that you can make?
MR. LEE:
Yes. You know, usually I'll find a good location where it might make
for a good shot. Like I've got a nice shot of a bus station late at
night and I just kind of picked a good spot in the bus station and shot
from my waist. I probably shot half a roll and got one good image. But
it's a real good image. So I kind of...rather than chase the crowd around
or chase somebody around, I pick a spot and then...
MR. H:
Wait until you're invisible.
MR. LEE:
Yea, pick a spot and wait to see what happens (UNINTELLIGIBLE).
